CHAPTER XI.

DAILY LIFE.

Busy life at home—Discomforts of early morning—Ablutions—Off to

school and office—Smoking—Giving orders—Morning

work—Washing—Needlework—The work-box—Japanese way of

sewing—Ironing—Remaking clothes—Home duties—Bath—Evening—Early

hours.

Many foreigners think that Japanese women must lead a pretty dull

life as they can have little to do in a house bare of furniture. But

whether their lives be dull or not compared with the lives of women in

other countries, they certainly are not idle. They do not, it is true,

go out much; it is a red-letter day with them when they visit a public

place in the flower-season or betake themselves to the theatre. But

at home they are kept all day to their work. The very scarcity of

furniture in a Japanese room implies constant sweeping and tidying;

and what with the care of children, making and unmaking of clothes,

and superintending of the kitchen, the Japanese housewife has by no

means an easy time of it.

But to begin with the early morning. In Japanese houses there are, as

has been already stated, no rooms exclusively set apart for sleeping.

The beds can be laid anywhere on the mats. The bed consists of one or

two thickly-wadded mattresses of cotton or silk, usually three feet

wide by about six feet long, that is, nearly the size of a mat. These

are laid on the mats and over them a large, thickly-wadded cover of

the shape of a winter _kimono_ with open sleeves and a quilt, also

heavily wadded, of about the same length as the bed but wider. They

are both of silk or cotton, figured or striped, with linings of a

dark-blue colour. They both have a black velvet band where the

sleeper’s face touches them. The two are used in winter; but in spring

and autumn only one, usually the _kimono_-like cover, is thrown

over the sleeper. In midsummer, even that is too hot, and is replaced

by an ordinary lined _kimono_ or a thinly-wadded quilt. The pillow

for men is a long round bolster filled with bran; but women, whose

coiffure would be deranged by such a pillow, lay their heads on a

small bran bolster, two inches or so in diameter, which is wrapped

in paper and tied on the top of a wooden support. It is very

uncomfortable at first, though most women are used to it. As the

bolster soon gets hard, the skin about the ear often becomes red and

rough if one sleeps all night on the same side. Though the beds may be

spread anywhere, their places are always fixed for the members of the

family. The master and mistress sleep in the parlour or some other

large room with the youngest children, the mother with the baby in her

bed and the father sometimes with the next youngest in his. The rest

of the children sleep either in the same room or in another and with

some other member of the family, unless they are quite grown up. The

sitting-room is usually left unoccupied. The servants sleep in a room

next to the kitchen and the house-boy in the porch. It is important to

group the sleepers as much as possible; for in summer when mosquitoes

are out, nets are hung over the beds by strings attached to the four

corners of the room, and to economise these nets the beds are brought

together wherever practicable.

[Illustration: THE FAMILY IN BED.]

The servants get up at five o’clock or later every morning according

to season. They first open the shutters of the kitchen; the cook sets

at once to boil rice and then to make the morning soup. The housemaid

opens the shutters of all the other rooms, sometimes even of those in

which people are still sleeping. Where there is a verandah, the maid

reaches it by a vacant room; but if all the rooms are occupied, she

does not hesitate to pass by the beds. In winter the opening of the

sliding-doors at the same time as the shutters would be enough to give

a cold to any one unused to our way of life. He would sneeze and dive

into bed; and when he goes dozing again, the servant begins to sweep

the unoccupied rooms and dust the sliding-doors and shelves in them.

The noise would startle him as the partitions between the rooms are

thin; and the servant, usually a country-girl who has hitherto been

wading in rice-paddies and carrying loads of grain and faggot,

walks about on the mats as heavily as if she were on hard ground, and

the shock of her stamping he would keenly feel through the bed. It is

therefore but a dog-sleep that he would get after the shutters are

opened. This is pretty hard as in all probability he was awakened at

dead of night by the rats careering on the ceiling, which, being open

between the outwalls of the house, is their happy hunting-ground. In

fact, the Japanese house, with its thin walls and sliding-doors, is

extremely noisy, sounds from outside being heard as clearly as if they

came from another part of the house. Happily for us, however, having

been habituated to them from childhood, we are able to close our ears

to such customary noises.

The family rise an hour or so after the servants. In that time the

breakfast is got ready, and the sitting-room has been swept and

put tidy; and that is all we want for the while. We go out upon a

verandah, generally one close to the sitting-room, or into the

bath-room if there is one, where the servant has already laid on the

sink a brass basin for washing our faces and a bowl also of brass

for cleaning our teeth. Though the common bristle tooth-brush is

now largely used, the old form made of a little bit of willow-wood,

pointed at one end and frayed into a tuft at the other, is still found

handy. As it is very cheap, it is thrown away after a few mornings,

and is especially convenient when we have a visitor who stays only for

a day or two. The family wash one after another, the servant bringing

a fresh supply of cold or hot water each time. As we are exposed to

the cold in winter, we do not bare our necks and shoulders or wash our

hair, but dip our faces only; however, as we take baths daily or every

other day, this does not matter much.

Now breakfast is ready. Before, however, the family sit down to it,

the first offerings of the morning’s rice and tea are set before the

family shrine, in which are recorded on tablets or in a book the names

of the ancestors and other deceased members of the family. If the

children go to school early, they sometimes have breakfast before the

rest of the family; but as the father, if a government official

or a man of business, has also to leave home, the whole family

generally take their morning meal together. Breakfast over, the

children are packed off to school, and their father, after looking

through the papers, also makes for his place of business. When he gets

up, he always wears Japanese clothes; and when leaving for his office,

he puts on a _hakama_ if he goes in the same clothes; but if he

prefers European clothes, he has to dress over again. Before he leaves

home, he is given a cup of tea, as it is said to protect him from

accidents abroad. His wife and servants see him to the front door and

speed him.

The wife who has been getting the children ready for school and

helping her husband to dress, has now a little respite, during which

she may glance through the papers and take a few whiffs of tobacco.

Smoking is a general custom among Japanese women; but tobacco is

smoked in homœopathic doses in tiny bowls. The Japanese pipe consists

of a bowl, about a quarter of an inch in diameter and depth, bent into

a tube, and a mouthpiece, both of metal, which are connected by a

bamboo stem. The metal is brass for common pipes, while better sorts

are of nickel, silver, or gold. The bamboo stem is five or six inches

between the metal ends for pipes which are taken abroad, and not

unfrequently a foot or more for those used at home. Among the lower

classes the wife uses the long-stemmed pipe to emphasise her speech

by beating the mat with it when she gives a piece of her mind to her

truant husband; and a blow with it is pretty painful, as many an idle

apprentice knows to his cost. A small pinch of tobacco is put into

the bowl, and two or three whiffs are all that can be got from it. A

Japanese does not merely smoke, that is, get the smoke into his mouth

only, but actually swallows it and then slowly emits it from his mouth

or nostrils. Women generally emit it from their mouths only. The

tobacco smoked is dried leaves cut into fine slices. The filling and

emptying of the bowl takes about as much time as the smoking of it,

so that one cannot smoke while doing something else; but it is an

excellent time-killer, as day-labourers will testify.

[Illustration: A WOMAN SMOKING.]

The wife, however, has not much time to herself; for before she has

taken many whiffs, the tradesmen’s boys will be making their daily

calls. Those whose bills are settled at the end of the month are

usually the dealers in rice, _sake_, and faggot and charcoal, the

fishmonger, and the greengrocer. The rice-dealer does not call every

day; he brings a bag of rice when required and knows pretty well when

it will be exhausted. The _sake_-dealer comes every day; he sells,

besides _sake_, soy, _mirin_, and _miso_; and in many cases he deals

in faggot and charcoal as well. The fishmonger and the greengrocer

call every morning; the former will cook to order simple dishes

of fish. Besides these regular tradesmen, there are street-vendors who

bring bean-curd, boiled or steamed beans, and other food which will

not keep long. We have no grocers properly-speaking in Japan; the

nearest approach to them is the dealer in “dried vegetables.” Tea and

sugar have, like rice, special dealers.

When these tradesmen have been disposed of, it is time to commence the

serious work of the day. The cook washes the breakfast things and

sweeps and scours the kitchen floor. The housemaid takes up one by one

the quilts and mattresses of the beds, folds them in three, and puts

them away in closets; she then dusts the paper sliding-doors, shelves,

and other woodwork, sweeps the mats and verandahs, and scrubs the

woodwork with a hard-wrung cloth. Many foreigners think it strange

that we should dust before sweeping; but we dust the woodwork so as to

make the dust fall on the mats or be blown out, as we always open the

verandah sliding-doors when we dust and then sweep the mats to get rid

of the dust. And finally when some of the dust has fallen again on the

woodwork, we remove it with a damp cloth. When, therefore, we have

finished cleaning a room, all the woodwork looks bright and speckless.

The verandah is scrubbed first with a wet cloth and afterwards with an

almost dry one to make it shine. In the sitting-room the wiping and

polishing of the brazier is a long job, for the housewives of Tokyo

pride themselves upon the appearance of their braziers. The wife

superintends the cleaning of the rooms and also at times lends a hand.

When the rooms have been swept, next comes the washing. There is

always plenty of washing to do, especially in summer. If, moreover,

there are young children in the family, the clothes they are

constantly soiling have to be taken to pieces, washed, and remade.

If the clothes are lined, wadded, or of the better quality of the

unlined, they are taken to pieces and washed, and the pieces are then

spread out on a smooth plank specially made for the purpose and laid

out to dry in the sun. They are next starched, and when they are dry,

they still adhere to the plank and so keep free from creases and

shrinkages. The wadding is never washed. The underwear is also

washed; but unless it is of silk, it is not spread out. In summer the

unlined clothes, called _yukata_ or bath-dress, are washed every

three or four days; and as every member of the family has two or more

changes, there is always something to wash. The clothes and

underwear which need not be spread out, are hung up on long poles

which pass through the sleeves and are hoisted up on the pegs of two

high upright posts. When dry, these clothes are spread out on a

matting and starched and folded for use. Silks which require special

skill in washing or have stains to be removed are sent to the dyer.

[Illustration: THE STARCHING-BOARD.]

Meanwhile, the mistress of the house may begin her needlework.

Needlework is the first qualification of the Japanese housewife. As

all clothing for both sexes is made by hand, the wife who is a good

needlewoman effects a great saving to her family. Clothes for daily

wear are remade every year, sometimes oftener; those belonging to one

person may be taken to pieces and remade for another member of the

family; and old clothes which show signs of wear are redyed, turned

inside out, or resewn to hide the torn seams. The underwear is also

subjected to similar transformations. Sometimes a cloth may be remade

from the unlined to the lined or wadded, or _vice-versa_. It is no

light task to make shifts to enable the whole family to present a

decent appearance, so that even in an ordinary-sized household there

is no end of needlework to be done, and unless she is very active or

well-assisted, the housewife finds it pretty hard to keep abreast

of the seasons with a stock of neat, newly-made clothing. Even in a

family where she has no need to sew herself, she must have a fair

knowledge of needlework so as to be able to cut the cloth before

giving it to the needlewoman in her employ or sending it out to a

seamstress; for unless she can by her knowledge check the amount of

cloth used, she may be robbed with impunity of odd bits and ends.

The Japanese needlewoman’s work-box is commonly a square or oblong

case with two drawers, one above the other, of nearly the same breadth

as the case itself and another pair of half the breadth side by side

on the top. Into these drawers are thrown threads wound round square,

flat pieces of wood or cardboard, odd bits of rag, scissors shaped

like shears, and a bone cloth-marker. On one side of the case is an

upright post with a flat hole for inserting a bamboo foot-measure, and

on the top of it is a little box for the needle-cushion. To the post

is attached a small loop of string, to which the cloth to be

sewn is hitched with a needle, as pins are, or rather were until

recently, unknown. Sometimes the needle-cushion is on an upright of

its own, apart from the work-box, and has a long base which is pressed

under the knee while the cloth is fastened to the loop. The thimble is

not of metal, but of leather or thick paper and is nothing more than a

ring put over the first joint of the middle finger.

In sewing, the needle-cushion upright is put to the right of the

worker, and an end of the cloth is hitched to the loop. The threaded

needle is held and the tip only is moved up and down while the cloth

itself is gathered in small folds on the needle; and when there are

enough folds on it, the needle is pushed forward with the thimble and

the folds are pulled over the thread and straightened out. The needle

is then drawn out until it is stopped by the knot of the thread at the

first stitch. The same process is repeated. The cloth is re-hitched to

the post from time to time as the stitching goes on. This manner of

sewing is often mentioned as a peculiarity of Japanese needlework; but

the Japanese woman is so used to it that she can sew very rapidly in

this way. It cannot be resorted to when the stitches have to be very

close or the cloth is too thick or stiff to be doubled into little

creases, in which case the needle has to be passed through at every

stitch. The Japanese needle is of a very primitive kind; it is made

of iron or badly-tempered steel, for it is very brittle; and it rusts

rapidly while the eye is square and apt to cut the thread. The danger

of the Japanese way of sewing with beginners is that when they bring

back the needle after passing it through, they not unfrequently

scratch their right cheeks with it if the thread is long.

[Illustration: NEEDLEWORK.]

After a cloth has been sewn, it is ironed. The iron is a deep metal

pan with a flat, smooth bottom and a long handle. Into it red-hot

charcoal is put and the pan is heated enough to blacken any paper that

it is laid on for a minute or less. It is then moved rapidly over the

cloth to be smoothed; sometimes when there is some danger of the cloth

being burnt, a piece of paper is put over it before ironing. For

ironing edges and corners, a small thick trowel with a long handle is

used. The end is put into a brazier under the charcoal, and when

it is hot, it is wiped and pressed over the part to be smoothed. The

degree of heat is judged by holding it close to the cheek; and the

beginner often burns her cheek by bringing it too close.

The housewife, therefore, who is an adept in needlework, has plenty of

work before her. The clothes and underwear for herself and her husband

and children require making and unmaking. Those for holiday wear

do not need remaking every season; but everyday clothes have to be

taken to pieces, washed, and remade, For the children she would want

two or three suits for each season, as the Japanese children have,

notwithstanding their proverbial gentleness and tractability, as great

a capacity for soiling and tearing their clothes as the little folks

of any other country; besides, Japanese clothes are more readily

soiled than European. The wife has also the bed-clothes to make.

These, when they are soiled, are taken to pieces, washed, and remade

with fresh layers of cotton wadding. Cushions for squatting upon are

also remade when they are soiled, which may be once in one or two

years. In the matter of sewing, then, woman’s work is never done in

Japan any more than elsewhere.

Of course a lady who employs servants does not undertake all the

sewing herself. She sets the servants between hours to work on

clothing and bedding that do not require skill or delicate handling;

but she has to assist in putting in the wadding and probably gives

the finishing touches to the clothes. In the same way she superintends

the kitchen and may at times help in cooking. And with one thing or

another she is fairly well occupied all day. A wife, especially a

young one, has not unfrequently a middle-aged woman who has come with

her as a sort of duenna from her father’s family or has otherwise

become a permanent member of her husband’s household; such a woman

would take a great deal of work off her hands and superintend

the other servants. But even when they have not a housekeeper of

that description at home, many ladies manage to amuse themselves

by paying and receiving visits, going to theatres, or occupying

themselves in some favourite accomplishments, such as tea-ceremony,

flower arrangement, or playing on the _koto_ or _samisen_. But a

mother with little children cannot as a rule gad about or be absorbed

in her own amusements like one who is childless or whose children

are all grown up. The Japanese mother does not, if she can help it,

delegate her maternal duties to a nurse, and an infant in arms she

seldom cares to give in charge entirely to a servant. She would of

course have more time to herself if her mother or mother-in-law is

living with her.

Towards the evening, the husband comes home and the children are back

from school. It is the custom to take a bath every day in summer and

perhaps once in two or three days in winter. If there is a bath-room

in the house, the inmates take a bath one after another, the master

of the house leading. If there is not a bath-room in it, then they go

to the public bath-house; the wife and the children who are with her

would take the bath in the daytime before the others have come home.

In the public bath-house there are baths for the two sexes divided by

a wooden partition, at the end of which the bathkeeper or his wife

sits on a high platform so that both sections can be watched at the

same time. There is in each section a single large bath, eight feet or

more long by about four feet wide. Into this all the bathers dip up to

their necks. In front of the bath is a large slanting floor, on which

they sit and wash themselves. Under the partition between the male and

female baths is a square wooden tank each for hot and cold water. The

water is ladled in little wooden pails. When we undress, we first wash

ourselves on the inclined floor and then get into the bath; and when

we have warmed ourselves, we come out and wash more carefully with

soap and, in the case of women, with rice-bran powder as well. When

we have done washing, we get into the bath again, and finally, before

we wipe ourselves on coming out of the bath, we pour again upon our

bodies the hot water from the tank. We are then supposed to be always

clean when we get into the bath; and as we do not wash in the bath

itself, its water should always remain clear. But as a matter of fact,

the water grows turbid as the day wears; happily, the lights are

dim when the bath-house closes an hour or so before midnight. In the

daytime it is pretty clean; and bathing in the forenoon is very

pleasant as only a few bathers have been before us, except in the

lower town where it is the custom for workmen to take an early morning

bath.

When we have had a bath, we sit down to supper. The master perhaps

drinks _sake_ with it, in which case it will take some time as we

always finish drinking before we attack the rice. Women seldom drink.

The children sup at the same time. After playing for a while, the

youngest are put to bed. The mother gets into the bed without

undressing with the infant and gives it milk until it falls asleep,

whereupon she gets out. Other young children are put to sleep by other

members of the family. Their elder brothers and sisters prepare the

next day’s lessons and go to bed about nine o’clock. When the children

are thus put to bed, the mother is free for the rest of the evening.

But it often happens that she is herself sent dozing while she is

trying to make the infant sleep.

As we keep on the whole early hours, the streets are almost deserted

at ten or eleven o’clock except on special nights, and most shops are

closed by that time. Only in tea-houses are noises to be heard until

twelve o’clock when all musical instruments must be put away. In

midsummer, however, houses are often kept open till midnight on

account of the heat, especially in the lower town where the crowded

buildings get very little of a breeze.

Home Life in Tokyo · 第 11 / 22 章